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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29441697">Home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/xylarias/pseuds/xylarias'>xylarias</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Angst, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Castiel Says "I Love You" (Supernatural), Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Cuddling Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Has ADHD, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Dean Winchester Says "I Love You", Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hugs, Letters, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sam Winchester Knows, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, anyway um there's sorta?? descriptions of wounds n stuff so be prepared, but i am!! fairly proud of this actually, loosely based on a dream i had the other night</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:33:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,681</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29441697</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/xylarias/pseuds/xylarias</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Don't die, alright?" whispered Dean, his warm breath tingling Castiel's skin. "Don't die, Cas."</p><p>Castiel swallowed. He couldn't make promises, but he couldn't stand upsetting Dean either. So he went with a compromise. "I'll try not to," he said. "I swear."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>so I had a dream with Dean and Cas the other night and Dean was just begging Cas not to leave so that's what gave me the motivation to write this,,, also Dean has ADHD and he stims!! fairly proud of this actually</p><p>also happy Destiel wedding day folks</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dean paced around the small room, frustrated. He didn't want Cas to leave. He knew he had to, but... anything could happen. And Dean sure as hell wasn't going to lose him now. Not when he thought that he'd finally, <em>finally</em>, come to terms with who he was. Somewhat, anyway. Not when he feared that he would never get to do all the things with Cas he'd dreamed about. The first being a confession.</p><p>"Dean," said Castiel. "You know I have to leave."</p><p>Dean exhaled shakily. "Of course I know that, Cas," he said. "I just... I don't want you to." Cas just blinked at him. "I mean, for all I know, you could <em>die</em> out there." Dean rubbed his hands on his face. "You think I'm willing to let you risk it? You think I want you to endanger your own <em>life</em>? And how am I supposed to know if you die? I could spend hours, <em>days</em>, even, thinking that you're still on your mission, and you could be dead in some frigging ditch!"</p><p>Castiel frowned. "Dean–" Dean grabbed the lapels of Cas's trenchcoat, pushing him against the wall. Castiel stared. Their faces were an inch apart, but right now, Dean wasn't even thinking about that. All his mind supplied him with was the image of Castiel lying on the ground, bloody, lifeless. Dean loosened his grip on the lapels, sighing.</p><p>"Look, Cas," Dean said. "You're like–" a lump formed in his throat – "You're like family to me. To us. I can't– We can't lose you. Just... don't die out there, alright?" Before Castiel could respond, Dean's arms were wrapped around him. Cas was taken aback, so for a moment, he struggled to return the gesture. But when his hands made their way to Dean's back, Dean embraced him even tighter. This wasn't like the hugs they'd given each other before. This was more intense. Castiel closed his eyes, enjoying every second of Dean's warmth surrounding him, protecting him. It'd be over soon. But right now, he could stay in Dean's arms, just like he'd always wanted to.</p><p>"Don't die, alright?" whispered Dean, his warm breath tingling Castiel's skin. "Don't die, Cas."</p><p>Castiel swallowed. He couldn't make promises, but he couldn't stand upsetting Dean either. So he went with a compromise. "I'll try not to," he said. "I swear."</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Every single minute of his mission Cas thought about Dean. About how Dean would suffer if Castiel died. As he thrust his angel blade into angels or as he killed demons, he was thinking about Dean. He couldn't die. He knew that Dean was waiting for him, and he still had so much to say to him. Like how day by day Castiel felt more human because of Dean, or how he loved his eyes, or his smile, how he loved <em>him</em> more than anything else in the entire world, how just as Dean couldn't lose Castiel, Castiel couldn't lose Dean. It worked both ways. He knew attachment was dangerous. But the harm was already done, and most times, Castiel had a hard time believing that it was harmful. Like when Dean was peacefully drinking coffee and reading a book, or when they hugged, or when Dean teased him about something and laughed, or when he slept soundly in his bed, without nightmares. Or when he woke up and stretched and all Cas could think about was how blessed he would be to have this man as his husband.</p><p>It was clear to Castiel that his feelings weren't reciprocated. Castiel didn't even know if Dean was into men – so far, everyone he'd seen him with had been a woman. And if he did turn out to be something else than heterosexual, he was, most likely, homophobic. Unaccepting of himself.</p><p>It was Castiel's goal to make Dean be at peace with himself. To be able to enjoy life as his authentic self.</p><p>So he kept going, killing everyone that dared to try to stop him from achieving that goal.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>When Castiel finished his mission, he was beaten up. Covered in blood both his own and his enemies'. But he wasn't dead. If everything went as planned, he could return home, to Dean. Or maybe Dean <em>was</em> his home. He hadn't yet made up his mind about that. He appeared behind Dean, who was writing something in a journal. It was unsteady, as he was rapidly shaking his leg. Dean chewed on the other end of the pen, pensive. Castiel thought he could glimpse his own name on the paper. He waited. Dean didn't notice. So he did what he had done so many times before.</p><p>"Hello, Dean."</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Dean's head jerked up. His eyes widened, a wary smile spreading across his face when he saw Cas. He stood up, his hand hovering uselessly in the air before he finally decided on a purpose.</p><p>Dean hugged him. Not quite as desperate as the one they'd had before Castiel had left, but a relieved, relaxed one. Castiel suspected it might also be because Dean was being cautious of Cas's wounds. "Hey." Dean bit on his lip. "I'm glad you're back," Dean said.</p><p>Cas smiled softly. "Me too."</p><p>Dean let go of the angel, examining his face. He frowned. "Cas, I hate to break it to you, but you're in pretty bad shape. We should get you cleaned up." Dean entered the bathroom first, and Castiel followed behind him. He sat on the toilet seat, grunting as he did. Dean glanced at him worriedly. "Does it hurt?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>Dean grabbed some cotton pads and a white towel from the shelf. They were going to be stained with blood, but maybe that wasn't the most important thing right now. Dean poured antiseptic on the pads. "Could you...?" He looked up at Cas.</p><p>"Could I what?"</p><p>Dean cleared his throat. "Your coat and jacket," he said, gesturing vaguely at his chest. "I can't treat your wounds if you don't, you know."</p><p>"Oh." Castiel carefully took off his coat, placing it on the floor. He took off his suit jacket, putting it on top of his coat. Blood seeped from under his button-up.</p><p>"<em>Cas</em>," said Dean, eyes widening.</p><p>"I know."</p><p>"Let's just, uh... Maybe we should start with your face." Castiel nodded. Dean licked his lips. They were dry, he noticed. Like he'd been chewing on them. Dean placed a cotton pad between his fingers. "So."</p><p>"So," replied Cas.</p><p>"So you killed those sons of bitches?" asked Dean as he cleaned up one of Castiel's wounds, the one right on his forehead. He was holding Cas's hair out of the way, his fingers pleasantly placed between Castiel's strands of hair. "<em>All</em> of them?" Castiel nodded. "Man," chuckled Dean, "you really deserve a break."</p><p>Cas smiled at him. "Thank you," he said.</p><p>Dean laughed, but his eyes didn't crinkle the way they did when he laughed happily. "Don't thank me," he said. "You're the one who did all the work." He swallowed. "You know, me and Sam could've, uh, helped you out–"</p><p>"It would've been too dangerous for you, Dean."</p><p>"Yeah, well, it's not like it wasn't dangerous for <em>you</em>, Cas."</p><p>"Not <em>as</em> dangerous as it would've been for you and Sam," Cas stated, and Dean knew that he was right. He took another cotton pad, carefully placing it on a cut on Cas's cheek. He cleaned it, then gave Cas a towel that he could press at the cut with. Then he moved to the wound right on Castiel's collarbone. He hesitated at opening Cas's buttons. "It's okay," said Cas, looking at Dean's vulnerable eyes. He was laid bare, afraid. Castiel wasn't certain, but he thought he knew why Dean was the way he was right now. And that reason, if it was what Castiel thought it was, awakened a glimmer of hope inside him.</p><p>Tenderly, Dean opened the first two buttons of Castiel's shirt, inhaling sharply. He was nervous. He cleaned Castiel's wound, occasionally glancing at the angel's blue eyes as he did. "Tell me if it stings," Dean said, breathing deeply, trying to pace his breath.</p><p>"I will." Cas paused, letting his eyes focus on Dean's features. His green eyes, his eye crinkles, his freckles, his eyelashes.</p><p>"Where's the worst wound?" asked Dean. His eyes flitted to Castiel's stomach. "The abdomen?" Cas nodded. "Can you–?" Castiel did what he knew Dean was asking him to. He took off his shirt, throwing it on the floor. For a short while, Dean let his eyes wander over Castiel's torso. He swallowed. "I– I think that needs stitches," he suggested, pointing at the still-bleeding wound snaking all the way from Castiel's left side to his right side. It was fairly deep. "I'm not really good with things like that," he said. "I might just, uh, ask Sam to stitch you up. If that's alright."</p><p>"It is," said Cas, and on impulse, he almost put his hand on Dean's cheek. He caught himself right before he could do something irreversible. He exhaled. "Thank you, Dean. I appreciate what you've done for me."</p><p>Dean smiled lopsidedly at Castiel. "It's the least I could do," he assured him. "After what you did for us and all." Castiel let out a small laugh. "I'll just phone Sammy and, uh, ask him to get his ass over here."</p><p>"It's not urgent."</p><p>Dean raised his eyebrows, looking back and forth between Castiel's wound and his eyes. "That's not urgent?" He dug out his phone, dialing Sam. "He'll be here soon enough."</p><p>"<em>Hey,</em>" said Sam's voice from the other end, and for a moment, Dean thought it had went straight to voicemail. "<em>Dean?</em>"</p><p>Dean leaned on the sink, pressing his phone between his cheek and his shoulder. "Hey, Sammy."</p><p>"<em>What's up?</em>" Sam asked as Castiel made the mistake of looking at his wound. He'd never been squeamish about blood, per se, but this was bad. Really bad.</p><p>"So, uh. Cas came back."</p><p>"<em>Really? Wow. He made it?</em>"</p><p>"Yup," replied Dean, popping the 'p'. "But, uh... He's in pretty bad shape. I'm gonna need you to come and help him out."</p><p>"<em>Yeah. Yeah, sure. I'll be there in a few.</em>"</p><p>"See you."</p><p>"<em>Yeah, see you.</em>"</p><p>Dean closed his phone. "He's going to be here in a few minutes." Castiel nodded, mouthing 'I heard you'. Dean licked his lips. "Right. Do you... Do you want some coffee? Food?"</p><p>Cas considered this. Coffee sounded good right now. "Thank you, Dean. A coffee sounds great."</p><p>"Okay," Dean agreed. "You stay alive in here, alright?" Castiel nodded. Dean left the bathroom, his steps making the floorboards creak. Before too long – after only a couple of minutes, actually –, Dean returned to the bathroom with no coffee and a confused expression. He laughed awkwardly. "Uh," he stammered, "if you don't mind me asking, what was I–? What was I supposed to do?"</p><p>Castiel smiled patiently. "Coffee." Dean had a tendency of forgetting regular things due to his ADHD – it was untreated, despite all of his loved ones prompting him to take his medications, but at least he'd gotten it diagnosed. Maybe when he learned to live with himself, he would accept that he couldn't be invincible.</p><p>"Right. Right. Thanks." He scurried away to the kitchen, and Cas could hear the boiling of water as Dean prepared the instant coffee. He took out a couple of mugs from the cupboard, and they clinked against each other. Warily, Castiel pressed at the big wound on his abdomen. The towel was immediately stained with red.</p><p>Castiel could hear Dean's steps as he approached the door. It sounded like he was balancing the mugs on one hand and opening the door with the other. "Hey," he said, hissing softly as he set the steaming cups of coffee on the shelf beside the toilet. "Yours is the one with the angel wings handle." He grinned, and Castiel contentedly noticed that his eyes crinkled. "I bought it from Amazon."</p><p>Castiel smiled wearily. "Thank you. It's cute." Dean's cheeks flushed, but out of courtesy, Cas pretended not to notice that.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The doorbell rang. Dean excused himself, opening the door for his younger brother. "Hey, Sam," he greeted him, offering him a casual bro-hug. Sam accepted it.</p><p>"Hey. How's...?" Sam gestured at the bathroom door. Dean led the way, opening the door to where Castiel was still sitting on the toilet. Sam entered the room, ducking to avoid hitting his head on the doorframe. He placed his backpack on the floor. "Cas," he said with a smile. "I'm glad you're okay."</p><p>Dean clicked his tongue. "Well, he's back, but I don't know about <em>okay</em>–"</p><p>Castiel shook his head. "I'm fine, Dean. Thank you, Sam."</p><p>Sam dug out a pack of medical tools from his bag, zipping it open. "You mind if I...?" This question was directed at Dean, and it took him a moment to react to it.</p><p>"Oh, yeah. Yeah, no, of course. I'll just fetch a cold one, so, uh, knock if you need anything."</p><p>Sam and Cas both smiled. "Thanks," said Sam, threading the needle. Sam turned back to Castiel. "So, I'm just gonna clean it up a bit, okay?" Dean took that as his cue to leave. He nodded at them, but they weren't looking, so he stepped out and gently closed the door.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Sam had known for a while. Of course he had. It was near impossible to miss. He saw the way Cas and Dean looked at each other, the way he could almost hear Dean's heart ache at not being able to be his own true self and therefore being unable to say anything of the matter to Cas. And Castiel, well, he was somewhat open about it. Sam doubted that he tried to be, but he wasn't particularly good at lying. Or hiding feelings.</p><p>Sam pressed at the wound on Castiel's abdomen. Castiel slightly arched his back, grunting as Sam tried to clean it up. Sam glanced at Castiel. "Look, Cas, I know it hurts, but I'm gonna need you to stay still." Castiel nodded, swallowing. "Just– Focus on my voice, alright?"</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>"Okay. Okay, good." Sam cautiously put the needle through the skin. "Um," he said. "So."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"You and Dean." Sam's eyes met Castiel's. Cas's eyebrows furrowed.</p><p>"What about us?"</p><p>Sam made the first stitch. "I know the way you feel about him, you know."</p><p>"I don't–"</p><p>Sam finished another stitch. "Yes, you do, man. And I'm sorry for, heh, overstepping boundaries here and all, but I just wanted to say that you should maybe talk to him about it. I mean, have you tried?"</p><p>Castiel blinked. "I have. But it'd be a waste."</p><p>Sam raised his eyebrows, looking back at his hands to see how far he'd gotten. Not very, but at least he was keeping the wounded angel distracted. "How so?"</p><p>Cas's mouth twitched. "Well. He's not, hm, interested."</p><p>"And why, exactly, are you so sure about that?"</p><p>Castiel opened his mouth, but he didn't even have a decent answer to that. He wondered if what Sam was saying was true.</p><p>"Yeah," said Sam. "I thought so." He licked his lips. "You know, it'd do him a lot of good, someone like you."</p><p>Castiel's breath caught in his throat, but that was probably caused by the stitches. He nodded slowly. "Thank you, Sam." In all fairness, Sam wasn't sure if Cas was thanking him for the stitching, the advice or both. But he said what he thought was suitable for this situation.</p><p>"You're welcome." Sam smiled. "Hang in there."</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Dean was zoning out when Cas emerged from the bathroom. The angel's voice woke him from his thoughts. "Dean," he said. Dean jolted, turning to Castiel, who was, to Dean's dismay, still shirtless. Probably because he wanted to show his newly treated wounds.</p><p>"Hey." Dean let his eyes roam for just a few seconds, arching an eyebrow at the now stitched wound in his abdomen. It was temporary, but Dean was glad that he'd asked Sam to do it. "You look good," he said, then cursed under his breath. "Your <em>wounds</em> look good." He winced. "Better."</p><p>Castiel hummed in agreement. "Sam did a great job."</p><p>"Yeah. He did." Dean tapped on the floor with his foot. He offered the bottle of beer. "You want some?"</p><p>Castiel knitted his eyebrows. "You haven't opened it yet?"</p><p>Dean shrugged. "Guess I wasn't thirsty after all."</p><p>"Okay, but no, thank you."</p><p>Dean nodded, clearing his throat. "You know, it might be good for you to rest. It's late." Dean looked at the clock.  It was 3 AM.</p><p>"You're probably correct," answered Cas. "If you don't mind, I'll be back here in a few. I'll just gather my clothes and–"</p><p>Dean shook his head. "The blood-stained button-up?" He barked a laugh. "Yeah, um, no. You're borrowing one of my shirts."</p><p>"Okay."</p><p>Dean stood up, then rummaged through the top shelf of the closet. He picked out a basic black T-shirt, handing it to Cas. "There you go." Castiel smiled, a silent 'thank you'. Dean had trouble concentrating on a single thing he wanted to say to Cas. There were so many of them. "Um," he settled on saying. "Sleep well."</p><p>Cas didn't sleep, but he didn't have the heart to say that. "I will. And, Dean?"</p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p>"Thank you." It was Dean's turn to nod. He shut the lights. Sam finally returned from the bathroom, and Dean could almost swear that he'd only been giving them privacy instead of actually doing anything productive in the bathroom. "Hey," Dean whispered, opening the fridge and giving Sam a beer.</p><p>"Hey," replied Sam. "How is he?" Sam nodded in the general direction of Castiel.</p><p>"Getting there."</p><p>"And how are <em>you</em> holding up?"</p><p>Dean frowned, taken aback. "Me?" Sam muttered a 'yeah, you'. "I'm good,' Dean said. "Why wouldn't I be?"</p><p>"Maybe because your best friend just risked his own life and you had no way of knowing whether he was safe and sound or lying dead in some alley?" That came out harsher than Sam had intended.</p><p>Dean arched his eyebrows. "Wow. Wow, Sam."</p><p>"Sorry."</p><p>"Well, thank you for asking, then. But I'm fine."</p><p>Sam narrowed his eyes. 'Dean–"</p><p>"I said I'm fine!" Dean whisper-shouted. "I'm fine."</p><p>"You know, you should talk to him."</p><p>"I have talked to him."</p><p>Sam took a swig of his beer. "You know what I mean." He looked at Dean, and Dean hated the expression on his face, like he could see straight into Dean's soul. "Seriously, man," Sam said, "talk to him."</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>"Morning, Dean," said Cas from beside him, waking Dean. Dean blinked the sleep from his eyes, raking a hand through his hair. "How did you sleep?"</p><p>Dean slowly sat up. "Barely," he said. "What are you doing awake?"</p><p>Castiel shrugged. "I made us toast and eggs."</p><p>Dean opened his mouth. "You–? The hell, man, you're supposed to be resting!"</p><p>"I'm okay, Dean."</p><p>Dean buried his head in his hands. "Okay. Okay. Let's just... Eat." He stood up, stretching. Cas waited patiently. Dean yawned, leading the way to the table. When he saw what Cas had done, he couldn't stop himself from flapping his hands. On the table there were two lukewarm cups of coffee, one black and one not really even brown, two plates with slightly burnt toast and fried eggs. The thing that really made Dean's day was the smiley faces on the napkins. A smile spread across Dean's face, his eyes sparkling. "Thank you, Cas."</p><p>Castiel smiled. "I'm glad you like it." Dean was still stimming, but he was just so unbelievably happy right now. "Take a seat," offered Cas.</p><p>Dean nodded eagerly. "Yeah. Yeah, thanks," he said, sitting on the chair opposite of Cas's. "It's perfect." Castiel smiled, but really, he'd never stopped smiling. He loved seeing Dean this happy, as it, unfortunately, happened too rarely in Castiel's opinion. "How about, uh, Sam?"</p><p>Castiel blinked once, twice. "Oh. He said he'd eat while out running errands."</p><p>Dean nodded, then took a bite of his toast. "Oh, this is good," he said, mouth full. Cas just smiled at him, taking a sip of his coffee. Dean downed the last bit of the toast he was chewing. "So, how are you feeling?"</p><p>Cas offered him a shrug. "I don't know. Better."</p><p>Dean nodded understandingly. "Good. Good. I'm happy to hear that."</p><p>As they finished their breakfast, chatting away, Castiel thought about how much he'd love to be allowed to love Dean. How much he'd love to sleep next to him in bed, safe and warm. How much he'd love to be able to casually kiss him or hold his hand.</p><p>Cas could only hope.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Castiel knew he shouldn't. It was honesty, but a coward's way of it. But he needed to know, and he knew he couldn't do it face to face. So he stayed up all night, occasionally studying how peaceful Dean looked when he slept. He crossed over words, threw away crumpled balls of paper, began the letter over and over again. Eventually, he wrote one that he knew would do it.</p><p>
  <em>Dean,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'm sorry for doing it like this. Don't worry, this is not a suicide note. This is just me taking time alone with my emotions and giving you space to deal with your own. I need to know, Dean. I think you do, too. I might be completely incorrect, but I have learned to analyze and understand your expressions, feelings and actions. So I do think there is some truth to what I am saying.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I hope you know that you mean a lot to me. I hope you know that I would, in fact, do anything for you if you asked me to. I hope for things I have thought that I can't get for so long, but recently, I have been thinking about this more. I have realized that I may not be alone with my feelings. I sincerely hope that I am not, for it would be the best thing to happen to me ever.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I should've said this to you directly, but I know I couldn't have done it. So I wish that this piece of paper will suffice in delivering my message.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I love you.</em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Someone shook Dean awake. It was Sam. "Dean," he said. Dean mumbled something about five more minutes. "Wake up."</p><p>Dean sighed. "What is it?" He sat up, taking in his surroundings. Something was missing. Some<em>one</em> was missing. "Where's Cas?"</p><p>"That's why I woke you up," replied Sam. "I don't know."</p><p>"Dammit, Cas, where the hell are you, man?" Dean whispered to himself.</p><p>"He, uh... He left you a note. A letter." The first thing that came to Dean's mind induced fear in him. He couldn't have.</p><p>Sam handed the folded paper to him. It said <em>To Dean</em>. Dean opened it, and relief washed over him as he got to the second sentence. He wasn't dead. He wasn't dead. He was just taking some precious me time. Totally understandable. Dean wasn't completely sure what Cas was talking about. He hoped it was what he thought it was, but he kept returning to <em>I need to know, Dean. I think you do too.</em> He couldn't be sure. At all. Not until he got to the last phrase. Short, but very, very clear. <em>I love you</em>. Castiel loved him. Castiel <em>loved</em> him. He loved Castiel. He <em>loved</em> Castiel. Dean covered his mouth with his palm, trying to process all of this.</p><p>Sam frowned at him. "What's it say?"</p><p>"Sam, you, uh, mind stepping out for a minute? Go have brunch or something?" Dean suggested, and Sam recognized the desperation in his voice.</p><p>"Sure," he said. "Just... don't do anything." Dean could hear the unsaid <em>to yourself</em> in it.</p><p>"Yeah," assured Dean. "I won't."</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>"Cas," said Dean. "I, um..." He swallowed. "I got your message," he said, pursing his lips. "So, you know, wherever you are right now... I'd like to talk." </p><p>Castiel appeared behind Dean. Dean turned around. "Dean," Cas greeted him, afraid of what Dean's response would be.</p><p>"So. That was some pretty big statement," Dean said. "'<em>I love you</em>'?"</p><p>Castiel put his hands in his pocket. "Yes."</p><p>Dean cleared his throat. "Uh," he stuttered. "Well. Um. This is awkward."</p><p>"I'm sorry, Dean."</p><p>"No– No no no, don't– Don't be sorry, Cas. I–" Dean took a deep breath, warily approaching Cas. "For a long time, I haven't– I haven't felt like myself. Or, well, I've suppressed my 'true self', you know? I mean, I hated myself. I still hate myself, but, um..." Dean exhaled slowly. "But loving you has made me hate myself just a little less."</p><p>Castiel's breath caught in his throat, and this time, it wasn't the stitches. "Loving me?"</p><p>Dean cupped Cas's cheeks, hands trembling. "Yes, Cas. I love you. I love you too. I love you so damn much." Dean was about to ask what he'd wanted to ask for so long. Before he could, Cas nodded. So Dean leaned in and kissed him. It was better than anything else he'd experienced in a long, long while. Castiel rested his hand on the back of Dean's neck, his fingers threading through Dean's strands of hair. He fit perfectly. Dean parted for just a second, admiring Cas up close. Dean's lashes tickled Castiel's cheeks.</p><p>Their lips parted. Dean took a breath. "So yeah," he said. "I love you." Castiel nodded, smiling. He spread his hands. Dean hugged him, and this felt different from the rest of them.</p><p>Different in a good kind of way.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>"So you told him?" asked Sam as he checked Castiel's wounds.</p><p>Cas smiled sheepishly. "Yeah."</p><p>Sam smirked. "And? Unrequited feelings?"</p><p>Castiel shook his head in response. "No. He, um. He loves me back." Cas frowned. It still baffled him.</p><p>Sam patted him on the shoulder. "Good for you, man. And for him."</p><p>"Yes. Thank you."</p><p>Sam breathed through his nose, amused. "Well. I'll just be off, then. Have fun, and, um, call me if you need anything."</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>"Sleep?" asked Dean, stifling a yawn. "I've been trying to figure out this case for hours now, and even the several cups of coffee I've had haven't helped," he said disappointedly. "Man, I hate to say this, but I'm exhausted."</p><p>Castiel placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, kissing the top of his head. This was new. The movements were loaded with some sort of unfamiliar tension, but now that they were doing this, they wanted to do it properly. "I don't sleep," said Cas. "But you should rest." Dean angled his head, planting a few soft kisses on Cas's jawline. Castiel smiled. "Come on."</p><p>Dean nodded, tired. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, you're right." He stood up, shutting down his laptop. Scribbled notes were scattered across the table. Dean had tried to make sense of whatever was responsible for the case. He'd listed creatures that could possibly be blamed, creatures that fit the vague description Dean had pieced together so far.</p><p>"You deserve it, Dean."</p><p>Dean laughed. "Thanks."</p><p>"I mean it," Castiel said seriously.</p><p>Dean shook his head, smiling. "I know." He turned to Cas. "Let's just go to sleep, okay?" Castiel nodded. They settled on the bed, facing each other. Cas was still wearing Dean's shirt. Dean sighed, pleased. Castiel had turned off the lights, so they couldn't really see each other, but they could feel each other's warmth.</p><p>Dean's arms were wrapped around Castiel, and Cas leaned into his touch. "You know, I'm really happy right now," said Dean. "Because of you."</p><p>Castiel smiled. He felt like he hadn't said this enough. "I love you."</p><p>Dean buried his head in the space between Cas's neck and shoulder. "Me too, Cas." He sighed. "Good night."</p><p>"Good night, Dean."</p><p>Dean drifted off to a deep sleep, without nightmares. And Castiel stayed beside him through the whole night. Because he could. Finally, he could stay close to Dean. He thought about his earlier question of whether Dean was his home. Now he could answer it.</p><p>Dean <em>was</em> his home. And he'd never leave him.</p>
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